


Nice to meet you again

by CocotteJenn



Series: Second Chances Main Story [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drunk Alistair, Drunkenness, F/M, First Meetings, Hangover, Past Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Surana (Dragon Age) is not a Warden, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocotteJenn/pseuds/CocotteJenn
Summary: (Tumblr prompt) Down on his luck, drunk in the arse-end of Kirkwall, Alistair meets a new friend.





	Nice to meet you again

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt for @no-id-no-person: "I found you in another universe" for Alistair/Surana.  
> I decided to make it a Warden Amell, exiled Alistair AU.

Alistair wandered aimlessly through the dark streets of Lowtown as he often did when the ale stopped flowing in his direction and the tavern's staff kicked him out. He staggered, a hand on the nearest wall to keep himself from falling, toward a narrow alleyway where he hoped to sleep in peace. His stomach churned, his head was spinning, the buildings swayed around him like ships at sea. It reminded him of the unpleasant trip across the Waking Sea he'd made to get here. He doubled over, bracing himself against the wall. Vomit splashed on the stone and splattered on his shoes. Then, everything went dark.

He vaguely remembered hearing voices, mocking laughter, a loud argument, the sound of cracking thunder. His templar training might have kicked in were he not so tired.  _Please, just let me sleep!_

He felt the warm touch of soft hands on his face bringing him back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again, his vision too blurry to make anything out anyway.

"Whayawant? D'm'uncle send you? Am no goin' back..."

"What? Who?" a woman answered him. "Listen, can you walk? You shouldn't stay here, it's too dangerous."

She had a beautiful voice, Alistair thought. It would almost be soothing if she wasn't also shaking him to keep him awake.

"Lemme alone," he grumbled.

"Absolutely not! You're going to get yourself killed if you stay here!" 

 _Good riddance_ , he thought as he slumbered away again.

Alistair awakened the next morning to warm sheets and the sounds of Lowtown's market faint in the distance. He opened his eyes, groaning at the violent pain at the back of his mind. He was hung over, as per usual. It would pass once found his way to the nearest tavern. He rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings.

He was in someone's home, on a cot by the fireplace. The place was simple but cosy. A table, a couple of chairs, a small shelf with some books and a bed. And by the bed… He blinked. Surely, he was imagining things. The woman had her back turned on him, but there were two things Alistair noticed about her. One, that she was an elf. Two, that she was naked. She was washing herself, running a piece of cloth over her shoulders. He should have closed his eyes, turned around, made some noise to signal he was awake, anything to give her privacy. But he couldn't take his eyes off her back. Scars. Too many scars. From the pattern, Alistair assumed they had been made by a whip. Could she be a former slave?

The woman was slipping into an undershirt and a ragged petticoat when he heard a high-pitched voice ring from the other side of the room.

“He's awake.”

He cringed, his headache getting worse. The woman turned around, her grey eyes locking onto his.

“Good,” she said, not at all bothered by the fact that he had just caught her in an intimate situation. She walked the short distance towards him and helped him sit on the edge of his cot. “How are you?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled something incomprehensible. “Where am I?”

The little girl snorted. “We found you in the trash.”

“Neriah!” her mother scolded her. Or at least he guessed she was her mother. The girl looked completely human. And a little old, come to think of it. Maybe they weren't related at all.

She gave the child a small handful of coins. “Here. Go to the market and buy me some elfroot. And don't let the merchants fool you because you're a kid.”

“Yes, mother.”

And with that, the girl was gone faster than she had appeared. 

A soft smile appeared on the woman's face. Maker, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for the likes of him. "Sorry about Riah," she said. "She can be a little wild."

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, his tone a lot colder than intended. "Did my uncle send you?"

"You don't remember me, do you?"

He shook his head. "I... Sorry."

She did look familiar, though. He tried to remember, but his memory was a blur. The Hanged Man, maybe? Not many other places in Kirkwall he could have met her. Yes, that was it. She was a waitress there on Tuesdays.

"We met in Ferelden during the Blight," she clarified, much to his surprise. "You were there when..." She looked away, her voice trailing off. "You helped me get free. So I decided to repay you the favour."

It all came rushing back to him. The tower. The demons. The young elven woman. Amell had insisted they helped her sneak past the templars.

"You're  _his_ friend," Alistair spat like venom.

Even now, years later, he still couldn't bring himself to say his name. It left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

"Does that bother you? That he's my friend?"

He snorted bitterly. "Should it?"

"Because of what happened to you." He blinked in surprise. She offered him a sympathetic smile before adding, "You're a chatty drunk."

Alistair took a deep breath. He had been friends with Amell too once, a long time ago, before he had preferred Loghain's company over his. But that woman had nothing to do with it, and she seemed like a good person.

"No," he sighed. "I don't think it bothers me."

"Good."

His cheeks flushed as a coy smile grew wide at the corners her lips.

"My name's Ana, by the way."

"Nice to meet you again." For the first time in ages, he found himself smiling back. "I'm Alistair."


End file.
